Otaku Translation: The Amber Sword V2C144

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Chapter 144: The Whisper of Hope, Part 7

“Pizos?” (Elvish: Father?)

The little girl immediately looked up, her face filled with surprise.

“What about your daughter?” Brandon frowned.

“I will take care of her. Funiya’s mother was my adopted daughter…” The elder paused, his voice tinged with reminiscence. “…so, sir, you can rest assured. Besides, Bolton volunteered. He is deeply grateful for bringing Funiya back…”

He paused again, gently stroking Funiya’s hair. “Of course, if I weren’t needed to lead the village, I would have preferred to guide you myself. I know this forest better than Bolton. I hope you can understand…”

A heavy silence fell over the room. As mercenaries, they were well aware of the Black Forest’s dangers. Its legends were more terrifying than even the most horrifying bedtime stories told to scare children in Eruin.

“What about her mother?” Antietta asked, her brow furrowed.

Brandon noticed the little girl clutching her father’s sleeve tightly and felt a pang in his heart.

The elder sighed, his tone nostalgic. “Funiya’s mother had elven blood—she was once the most beautiful girl in our village and the happiest bride when she married Bolton. But during the last ‘hunt,’ she sacrificed herself to protect others…”

Brandon gritted his teeth.

He knew exactly what “hunting” meant. In most regions of Vonder, nobles treated their conquest of so-called barbarians as sport—a centuries-old tradition. Though in many places, it had become symbolic, as true barbarian invasions had vanished after the First Holy War.

Nowadays, outside of places like Tonygel, encounters with civilization’s fiercest enemies were rare.

And the so-called “barbarians,” like the Senians, were merely scapegoats fabricated by people like Grudin to satisfy their twisted desires. This misunderstanding wasn’t limited to nobles; even the common folk believed it.

“Very well,” Brandon finally nodded. “Since you’ve decided, I won’t object. But this isn’t a trivial matter. How long do you need to prepare?”

He glanced at Bolton, confident that ensuring the man’s survival wouldn’t be an issue. After all, his group included three Gold-Rank individuals—far stronger than any ordinary adventuring party.

Still, he was more concerned about those who would remain behind.

The Senian elder nodded. “Sir, there are no other concerns. However, I must warn you: perhaps you’re unfamiliar with the dangers of the Black Forest. After autumn begins, the forest becomes perilous. As winter approaches, animals grow more aggressive due to hunger, let alone fiends. I suggest…”

“It’s fine,” Brandon interrupted. “Just guide us through the forest—we’ll handle the rest.”

The elder hesitated, opening his mouth but saying nothing.

He clearly hadn’t expected Brandon to seek out the druids, who had secluded themselves for nearly four centuries and rarely interacted with outsiders. Yet Brandon was familiar with the territorial habits of these reclusive beings. Once they entered the forest, he was certain they’d attract the attention of those “beasts.” And based on his experience, tracking them down afterward wouldn’t be too difficult.

As for convincing the druids to lead him to the fabled lost temple of Valhalla—that was another challenge altogether. Brandon had already decided to alter his original plan. He would first locate the legendary sealed kingdom and then rendezvous with Tiger Finch.

This decision stemmed from the recent troubles he’d encountered. The enemies arrayed against him were multiplying, and time was running short. He needed a faster solution. Gaining the druids’ trust, however, was a daunting task. These neutral forest hermits harbored deep suspicions toward outsiders. Though they had once allied with humans, that bond had been shattered during the First Holy War.

This dilemma troubled him, but he could only take things one step at a time. Unlike the Silver Elves, who had completely cut off contact with the outside world, the druids, while reclusive, still occasionally interacted with outsiders—though such interactions were exceedingly rare.

The elder pondered silently. Though he had suspicions about their intentions, Yorl’s account made it clear that these strangers could easily level their village if they wished. There was no need for deception, especially since they had already destroyed an entire cavalry unit.

Thinking of this, the elder couldn’t help but shudder. Yet alongside his fear was a growing concern. Unlike the younger villagers, his experience told him Baron Grudin wouldn’t simply let this go. Retaliation would surely follow soon.

How would the village defend itself then?

Thus, he had initially intended to persuade Brandon’s group to stay—at least through the winter. To his dismay, his suggestion was swiftly rejected. It dawned on him that these travelers didn’t care about their fate—they merely wanted a deal.

Yet even this deal, upon reflection, was one they couldn’t refuse. With a deep, resigned sigh, he bowed slightly.

“I understand, sir. I will arrange everything promptly. Please rest assured.”

Brandon remained expressionless, merely nodding.

---

Watching the elder and his companions leave, Brandon finally relaxed. Still, he couldn’t help but sigh. He understood the elder’s concerns, but he simply didn’t have time to spend an entire winter here.

Besides, staying wouldn’t necessarily help—

He didn’t mind informing Grudin that he was responsible for everything, but he doubted the volatile baron would refrain from retaliation. Or rather, retaliation was almost inevitable.

“Brandon, can we help them?” Roma tugged at his sleeve.

“Unless they’re willing to join us in the forest, but even then, we can’t provide enough food to sustain them through the winter. The nearest place to procure supplies is Grudin’s territory. Do you think he’d offer us anything, little Roma?” Brandon replied calmly.

Roma’s eyes flickered.

“I’ll stay.” The red-haired girl sat nearby, resting her halberd on her shoulder. She turned to Brandon, her amber eyes unwavering.

Brandon rubbed his forehead. On Cinnabar’s forehead, dark patterns resembling shadows were spreading—an ominous sign. Everyone knew she was plagued by nightmares every night, yet she never mentioned her condition while awake.

“You can’t stay, Cinnabar,” he sighed. “I can’t even let you stray too far. Spending months here would be dangerous—not just for you, but for these people as well.”

Cinnabar clenched her teeth, letting out a soft snort as if dismissing her own state. But Brandon’s words struck a chord. She knew she couldn’t stay; if she transformed into the Divine Messenger, these people would surely perish.

Antietta observed everyone silently. Though she disliked the Senians, she couldn’t help clenching her fists at the sight of this predicament.

At that moment, Brandon stood up, straightening his black coat and exhaling deeply. Turning back, he said, “I’m going out for a bit—”

Everyone froze.

In their minds, this young lord wasn’t the type to wander aimlessly. But as Tiger Finch and Cinnabar instinctively moved to follow, Brandon waved them off.

“Tiger Finch, Cinnabar, stay behind. Let me have some time alone. You both should rest and prepare for the journey ahead.”

Tiger Finch and the red-haired girl exchanged glances.

Time alone?

---

Among the Senians, there was a famous custom: they believed the souls of the dead lingered near the living, protecting them as they braved the harsh conditions of the Black Forest. Thus, they built longhouses for the deceased and held their most important council meetings within them.

In this way, the spirits of the dead could witness every decision crucial to the tribe’s survival.

But now, this sacred longhouse was host to a heated argument.

“I disagree!” The young man from earlier shook his head vehemently. “Funiya was just rescued. Doesn’t Nyia’s protection prove she doesn’t want this? Yet now we’re sending her back—what kind of sense does that make?”

“If we don’t send her back, we’ll all die,” a gaunt middle-aged man replied grimly. “We don’t want to, but we have no choice.”

He clenched his teeth. “Haven’t we seen enough partings and deaths? Funiya’s mother left this world for the same reason—to ensure others could live. This is our sacred pact as Senians.”

“And if the tribe ever needs me to fulfill this duty, I’d say the same. What we need now is perseverance and calm. Remember, the tribe hasn’t survived this long on impulse.”

“Bolton, Funiya is your daughter. What do you think?” he turned to the middle-aged man.

Bolton crossed his arms, silent.

“Is there truly no other way?” the young man pressed, his voice strained. “How can we hand over our own kin like this?”

“Or we could retreat into the forest.”

The elder shook his head. The crops in the fields hadn’t been harvested yet. Entering the forest now would mean certain death from starvation or freezing.

“So we just watch Funiya walk to her death?”

“It’s not like that. The baron said he’d take Funiya as his adopted daughter. He promised that if we handed her over, we wouldn’t need to flee into the forest. We could even become true citizens…”

Someone muttered quietly.

Silence fell over the crowd. Adopt Funiya? Everyone knew that was a lie. A noble lord adopting a Senian child, even one with half-elven blood, was unthinkable. Moreover, the depravity of the nobility was common knowledge.

“To say such things—you’re not ashamed?” the young man sneered coldly.

“It’s easy to talk, but what other choice do we have? Or if the elder deems it worth it, we could fight those bastards with steel and blood, elder?” the middle-aged man growled.

The argument inside the longhouse grew louder, spilling outside.

Brandon listened quietly, seated on a rock, watching the green-haired girl squatting beside him. She gazed at the ants on the ground, her expression serene, as if oblivious to the commotion inside.

“Funiya,” Brandon finally spoke. “You understand my words, don’t you?”

The little girl flinched, looking up at him with emerald-green eyes, surprised.

“S-sorry… Brother…” she struggled to reply in Cruzean, her words slow and deliberate.

“It’s fine,” Brandon shook his head. “I know you were protecting yourself. Funiya is a smart child.”

She smiled sweetly.

After a moment, she added, “Big… Brother, I… can lead you… into the forest. I know… it too. Mother… taught me…”

Brandon felt his heart soften, but with a sigh, he shook his head.

“Funiya, even if you guide us into the forest, even if you’re not here, that baron will still come for you. Do you understand?” This time, he spoke in Elvish.

Funiya froze, her expression dimming quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Brandon whispered softly.

The little girl bit her lip.

At that moment, the argument inside the longhouse grew even more intense—

Project Update: Volume 2 is now fully translated! However, as I'm currently focusing on stacking chapters for Volume 3, the release of the remaining chapters in Volume 2 will slow down a bit.

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